Chapter 2

I tended to my own wounds. The cut on my cheek, the bruises on my arms. Each new mark was a fresh reminder of Brennan' s betrayal. The physical pain was a dull ache, nothing compared to the agony in my chest. My heart felt like a shattered piece of glass, the sharp edges digging into me with every breath.

A servant knocked softly on the door, her voice trembling. "Mrs. Johnson... Mr. Johnson has instructed that your belongings be moved from the master bedroom."

The final humiliation. I was being evicted.

Before I could even respond, the door burst open. Breann stood there, her arms crossed, with Debbi Foley hiding behind her, peeking out with wide, innocent eyes.

"Still here, Alyssa?" Breann sneered. "Didn't you hear my brother? Get your things and move to the basement."

"This is still my room," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

Breann laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Not anymore. Brennan wants Debbi here. With him."

I pulled the robe tighter around me, trying to cover the bruises that were already purpling on my skin. "Get out."

Debbi shrank back, a perfect picture of a frightened doe. "Breann, maybe we should go. I don't want to cause trouble."

"She's the one causing trouble," Breann snapped, stepping in front of Debbi protectively. She turned to the servants who were hesitating in the hallway. "What are you waiting for? Move her things! Now!"

"Don't you dare touch my things," I warned, my voice ringing with an authority I hadn't used in years.

The servants froze. They remembered who I was. The daughter of the former head of the Sterling Syndicate. The woman who had stood by Brennan' s side as he rose to power.

Breann' s face flushed with anger. She hated that I still held that power over the staff. "You think you can still order people around? You framed Debbi, and Brennan knows it. He's on her side now."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper. "He's giving her this room. He's giving her everything that was yours."

She gestured to the servants again. "This is a Johnson house. You will obey my orders."

This time, the servants moved. They started packing my clothes, my books, my life, into boxes. I watched them, a cold emptiness spreading through me. There was no point in fighting this. It was a battle I couldn't win.

My focus was on the bigger war: escape.

I stood aside, my face a mask of indifference, as they stripped the room of my presence.

I heard Breann scoff as they picked up a simple wooden music box. "Look at this junk. Throw it out."

A bitter smile touched my lips. I had bought that music box for Breann on her tenth birthday. I had raised her, loved her like a sister. And this was my reward.

The basement was cold and damp. The air smelled of mildew and earth. My belongings were dumped in a pile on the concrete floor.

As I knelt to sort through the mess, a sharp pain shot through my knee. An old injury, from years ago. I had taken a bullet for Brennan during a shootout, a scar I had worn with pride. Now, it just ached with the memory of a love that was dead.

My fingers brushed against something sharp. It was our wedding photo, the glass shattered, the frame cracked. Brennan must have thrown it down here.

My heart constricted. I remembered that day so clearly. The sun was shining, and Brennan was looking at me with so much love it took my breath away. "Forever, Alyssa," he had whispered. "You and me, forever."

"Still clinging to the past?"

I looked up. Debbi stood in the doorway, a smug smile on her face. She was wearing one of my silk robes.

"Look at you," she said, her voice dripping with false pity. "The great Mrs. Johnson, living in a basement. While I'm in your bed, with your husband."

I ignored her, reaching for a sweater from the pile.

Her smile vanished. She stepped forward and stomped her foot down hard on my hand. Pain shot up my arm.

"Are you deaf?" she hissed. "I'm talking to you."

A surge of pure rage went through me. I grabbed her ankle and twisted. She yelped and fell to her knees, her face contorting in pain.

"Aaaah!" she screamed, a sound designed to bring the whole house running.

I heard heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs.

Brennan burst into the basement. He saw Debbi on the floor, clutching her knee, and his face darkened. He rushed to her side, gathering her into his arms.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

"I... I just came to see if she was okay," Debbi sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She just attacked me. For no reason."

Brennan' s gaze fell on me. "Why are you in the basement? I told them to put you in the guest room." His voice held a note of irritation, as if my location was an inconvenience. He even glanced at my leg. "The dampness is bad for your knee."

The fake concern was sickening.

Breann rushed in behind him. "Brennan! She attacked Debbi! I saw it!"

Brennan's face grew colder, his eyes hardening as he looked at me. "You haven't learned your lesson, have you?"

The memory of the humiliating photos he took of me flashed in my mind. I could barely breathe.

"It wasn't me," I tried to explain. "She..."

"She what?" Brennan cut me off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "She attacked herself? Debbi is gentle. She wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Brennan, please, it's my fault," Debbi whispered, playing her part perfectly. "I shouldn't have come down here. I'll leave. I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden," Brennan said, his voice softening as he looked at her. He stroked her hair. "This is your home now. You're not going anywhere."

He turned back to me, his eyes filled with ice. "Do you remember the family rules, Alyssa?"